


I still remember you as a little girl who overwaters plants because she doesn’t know when to stop giving

by MajorMinorMusicality



Series: Another Stolen Relic [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Phil Coulson, Dad!Coulson, Kid!Fic, Other, Protective Phil Coulson, reader is a badass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-10-20 20:09:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 17,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10669905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajorMinorMusicality/pseuds/MajorMinorMusicality
Summary: Coulson gets called in for an 0-8-4 years before Thor makes an appearance.No one told him the 0-8-4 was a baby.





	1. 0-8-4

"I still remember you as a little girl who overwaters plants because she doesn’t know when to stop giving." -Trista Mateer

* * *

The rain pouring down in the New Mexican desert was torrential. Coulson found himself soaked despite being under an umbrella. He hated getting soaked, it caused his clothes to stick to his body unnecessarily. Not to mention the mint condition Captain America trading card that was on the verge of getting wet in its protective sleeve in his inside jacket pocket.

Finally, he made it into the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility that had been hastily built around the 0-8-4 that had fallen out of the sky. Fury had demanded he get his ass to New Mexico as fast as possible, and Coulson wasn’t about to piss off the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Coulson ditched his umbrella by the door, shedding his suit jacket and hanging it on a coat rack and telling a younger agent to not let anyone touch it. He rolled his sleeves up as he went further into the facility to find the director.

He found the director in a small room, holding a bundle of blankets. Little fists reached up and grabbed at Fury’s face. Coulson stopped in the doorway, trying to wrap his head around the fact that the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. was holding a baby.

“Coulson,” Fury greeted gruffly, finally looking at him.

“Sir.” Coulson replied, still confused. “Um…what is a baby doing here?”

“She’s the 0-8-4.” Fury stated, shoving the baby into Coulson’s hands. Coulson managed to hold her, hoping he was doing it correctly. He hadn’t actually held a baby before, and the task was a lot more daunting that he was expecting. “Found her in the desert.”

Coulson blanched at the director, then looked at the baby. A delicate gold bracelet rested around her wrist, the jewelry had intricate designs all over it.

“How is a missing child an 0-8-4?” Coulson muttered, sticking out his index finger for the baby to grab. She had a tight grip—a little too tight of a grip for a baby.

"She appeared in a flash of light,” Fury replied calmly. “Had a bunch of designs burned into the ground around her. We think she might be alien.”

Coulson’s eyes rounded as he looked at the baby, then at the director. “ _This_ is an alien?”

“We need someone to keep an eye on her while we figure out where she’s from, why she was sent here.” Fury gave Coulson a pointed look.

It took Coulson a full five seconds to figure out that Fury wanted _him_ to take in an alien child.

“Sir, I’m not sure I’m the best fit to take care of a baby.” Coulson finally stated, feeling scared for the first time since joining S.H.I.E.L.D.

“I need someone I can trust.” Fury replied. “I trust you more than anyone else, and May already called _not it_.”

Coulson scoffed, “But me? Sir, I’m not equipped to take care of a baby. Much less an _alien_ baby.”

“May already went out and bought everything you need.” Fury replied, not taking no for an answer. “She’s yours now, we just need to finish getting some paperwork ready.” Fury left the room, and Coulson looked down at the baby in his arms.

She stared up at him with those big eyes. She seemed to be studying him, and he gave her a tentative smile.

“Um, hi.” He mumbled, smoothing her hair away from her face. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

She made a gurgling noise, reaching up for his face. Her little fingers glanced across his chin, and he lifted her up closer to his face to allow her to grab onto his nose. She made another gurgling noise that was almost a giggle.

He couldn’t deny the kid was cute. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes seemed so damn inquisitive, as if she were trying to figure out the world around her.

Coulson felt guilty that this kid was now in his care. He had no idea how to take care of a baby, raise a kid, or be a father. But here he was, holding an alien baby that he was supposed to care for.

“You probably don’t have a name,” He muttered as he sat down at the table in the room. The baby looked up at him, gnawing on her little fist. Her gold bracelet glinted in the light, the intricate designs were a little hypnotic. Coulson dragged his eyes away from the bracelet, meeting the baby’s bright eyes. They were clear and still studied him. “How about (Y/N)?” He suggested, and the baby seemed to make a gurgle of approval. “Alright, (Y/N) it is.”

“Aw, you’re bonding.”

Coulson looked up to see May smirking at him. She was holding a clipboard with numerous papers on it. He scowled at her.

“Kind of have to since you invoked Kindergarten rights of _not it_.” Coulson growled as she came over and smiled down at the baby. “I’m guessing I have a lot of things to sign? Here, hold (Y/N).” He carefully handed the baby over to May, taking the clipboard from her. He smirked at May's startled expression as she held the baby.

“I don’t…am I doing this right?” She muttered, panic in her eyes as she tried to support the baby’s neck.

"Hell if I know.” Coulson shrugged, seeing the adoption certificate on the top of the paper. He signed her name into the first name column, then realized that she needed a middle name and a last name. “Probably shouldn’t put her last name as Coulson.” An idea struck him, and he quickly finished signing her new full name into the appropriate columns.

“So, (Y/N)?” May asked, seeming to have gotten the hang of holding a baby. “It suits her.”

“(Y/N) (Y/M/N) Carter,” Coulson murmured, continuing to fill out paperwork.

“Carter?” May snorted.

“Peggy Carter was a strong woman,” Coulson defended. “That kid has a hell of a grip, it seemed fitting.”


	2. Relocating

New Jersey. He had been relocated to a town close enough for him to commute to the SHIELD headquarters in New York while still being far enough away to raise the kid wihout too many distractions. Coulson was now a resident of Montclair, New Jersey. Fury had decided it was best for Coulson to spend some time off of the radar to take care of the baby who had been forced into his arms in New Mexico.

As if the universe knew how much he hated his new assignment, it was pouring down rain when he walked out of the SHIELD hangar his plane had gone in to. He hurried to the waiting car, opening the back-passenger door and sat the baby carrier in the seat. He knew he had to buckle the thing in, but he wasn’t too sure how to proceed with it. There were a few straps that seemed unnecessary and he was getting annoyed by the pouring rain.

The baby might be an alien, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t get sick…right? He didn’t want to find out, so he quickly figured out the plethora of straps on the carrier and shut the door. He rushed around to the driver’s seat and climbed inside. He looked into the backseat when he heard her began to make little whimpering noises. He folded down the top cover that had protected her from the rain, moving the blanket around to rest around her little body.

“I know, kid, this weather is rough.” He muttered, smoothing her hair down. She seemed to settle down a little, and he turned back around in his seat to face the front. He buckled his seat belt and hit the screen on the dashboard to activate the GPS to take him to his new home.

The drive was quiet, thankfully. The only noise was the rain splashing onto the car and the quiet hum of the engine as he drove.

Unfortunately, the drive gave him time to think about his current situation.

He had gone to New Mexico, thinking he would be helping assess an object that would end up in the Fridge or launched into space per SHIELD protocol. What he ended up with was a kid he had no idea how to raise.

The baby had been put through every medical test possible, and even through a few Coulson didn’t think were actually necessary. According to the doctors, the baby was about six months old and perfectly healthy. He was relieved that she was healthy, but the relief was quickly overshadowed by his fear of causing that health to deteriorate because he had _no idea_ what the hell he was doing.

May had bought him numerous parenting books, and he had managed to read two of them before he landed in New Jersey after a week of tests and getting things secured for his new identity.

Fury had thought it best for Coulson to spend some time with his new kid without having to worry about his job at SHIELD. So, Coulson was now, technically, on paternity leave for the next six months while he got used to being a parent.

He glanced in the rearview mirror, seeing (Y/N) was waving her little fists around and kicking randomly. Apparently, that was normal for babies to do. Something about developing their motor skills according to the books he had read.

It was still unreal to him that Fury had put him in charge of a _baby_. An actual child that would need a lot more than Coulson was sure he could give her. He had been given a crash course by a few of the agents who were parents before he had left New Mexico. He had learned to change diapers, how to make a proper bottle, and a lot of other skills he never though he would actually _need_.

The GPS told him he was close to his destination, and he scowled as he realized he was in a _suburb_ in _New Jersey_. He had never seen himself as the suburb type, but here he was. And in New Jersey, no less. He felt as if he were betraying Captain America by coming to New Jersey.

As he neared his new home, he went over his new cover story in his head.

He was Phil Carter, recently widowed father to his daughter, (Y/N). He worked for a security company in New Jersey, and moved to Montclair for a fresh start after his wife died in a car accident. It was a simple enough cover, and he wasn’t too worried about letting it slip that he had never been married, that his new daughter was an alien, and that he worked for SHIELD.

He pulled into the driveway of a house that matched pretty much every other house on the block. He hit the button to open the garage door, waiting for the garage door to slide open before he parked the car inside. Once the door closed, he got out of the car and headed to grab (Y/N) out of the backseat.

She gurgled happily at him and he wondered if she was happy to see him or to just get out of the car. He didn’t dwell too much on that thought as he took her carrier out of the car and carried her into the house.

The garage door opened into a decently sized kitchen. He continued through the kitchen, carrying the baby carrier as he explored the one story home he would be living in for a while. It was a nice place, fully furnished and completely baby proofed. There were a few more parenting books sitting on the coffee table in the living room. He was grateful for that. Anything to help him get a better handle on his new surprise assignment.

Finally, he found the nursery. It was the perfect size for a child to live in, and it would be easy to change out the white crib against the wall for an actual bed once (Y/N) got older. The walls were painted a soft, calming pink and Coulson wondered if Fury had designed the place himself. It was an odd thought that made him smirk just thinking about Fury picking out shades of pink for a nursery.

(Y/N) made a whining noise, and Coulson sat the carrier on the changing station against the wall. She had a very unhappy look on her little face and he assumed it was because she was mad about still being in her carrier.

"I got you, kid.” He murmured as he unbuckled her and took her out of the carrier. She grabbed at his tie with that strong grip of hers, giggling as she tugged on it. Coulson couldn’t help but smile at the sound of her laugh. It was pretty damn cute, and you’d have to be heartless to not smile at a baby’s laugh. “You like my tie?”

She made a noise as if she were agreeing with him, and he chuckled.

“So, you like your room?” He asked as he sat down in a rocking chair. He sat her in his lap, and she began gnawing on her fist as she looked at him with those bright eyes. “If you don’t like it later, we can totally change it.”

Another noise of approval.

“Alright…so…I know this isn’t the most ideal situation for either of us,” He sighed as he bounced her a little. She giggled again, and his smile got a bit bigger at the sound. “But I’ll make you a deal, (Y/N). We’ll both promise to do our best because that’s really all I can offer you.”

She reached for his tie again and tugged, making a few babbling noises as if she were agreeing.

“Alright,” He nodded. “It’s settled. We both try our best and see how that works for us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dad!Coulson is such a cute idea to me. I've got a few chapters about Coulson raising a kid, and I'm excited about them. He's such a good dad. 
> 
> \--  
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated!


	3. First Words

So, Montclair wasn’t too bad when it wasn’t pouring down rain. The place was nice, and his neighbors were all harmless according to the extensive background checks SHIELD put them all through.

However, despite the fact that he wasn’t too upset about being relocated to New Jersey anymore, he was still dealing with the fact that he had a baby to take care of. He read every single parenting book he could get his hands on. He read articles to learn what he should and shouldn’t do, he read about how (Y/N) should be developing and the time frame for each development.

The first few weeks were met with little sleep and a lot of irritation. (Y/N) seemed to be nocturnal, not wanting to sleep at night and wanting to sleep the day away. It took him weeks to get her on a somewhat normal sleeping schedule.

Changing diapers was something he never imagined himself doing, but he was now a master at doing it. He had even learned to put (Y/N)’s hair in pigtails every once in a while when she wasn’t too fidgety.

Even though he had been living with the baby for four months now, he still couldn’t actually see her as _his._ Legally, (Y/N) was his daughter, but she didn’t _feel_ like his daughter. So far, it just felt like a really long babysitting gig that he wasn’t getting paid for.

He went to leave the kitchen, having finished his morning coffee, only for someone to knock on the door. On instinct, he recalled exactly where his gun was hidden in a safe in the living room. He headed for the door, peering through the peephole to see that Fury was standing on his front porch. Coulson quickly opened the door to reveal the director of SHIELD.

“Morning,” Fury greeted as he strolled inside.

“Good morning, sir.” Coulson replied as he shut the door. “Um…any reason for the visit?”

"Just checking in on you.” Fury answered. “How goes parenthood?”

Coulson sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I mean…it’s alright I guess. I’m still getting used to it.”

Fury smirked, “It’s been four months.”

“A very long four months.” Coulson muttered, crossing his arms. “I’m not sure how well this is working out, sir.”

“I have all the faith in the world that you have this handled, Phil.” Fury stated sincerely. “I’m assuming the neighbors are buying the single father story?”

“Yes, sir.” Coulson nodded. Faintly, he could hear that (Y/N) was babbling in her room. She was awake, and would probably be getting cranky for breakfast soon.

Coulson made his way to the nursery with Fury following him. Once they stepped into the nursery, Coulson saw that (Y/N) was standing up in her crib. He stopped in the doorway, eyes round as he saw her standing on her own two feet. She had never stood up before, and it was…well, it was kind of awesome to see that she was actually growing more than just her height and weight. She could _stand_.

“Hey, kid,” He chuckled, making his way over to the crib. She squealed excitedly, smacking the side of her crib as she smiled up at him. She had a few teeth that had finally finished coming in. Coulson was already dreading the next round of teeth growing in. Teething made (Y/N) fussy, and he wasn’t eager to go through that again.

“Dada!”

He froze, feeling his eyebrows shoot up at the word. It was her first word, at least it was the first thing she said that sounded like a word. And not only was it was her first word, she saw him as _her father._ This child saw him as something he never imagined being, and he felt his heart swelling as he realized that it didn’t matter how he felt about being a father, it only mattered that (Y/N) saw him as one and she did.

Suddenly, everything seemed to click into place for him. (Y/N) might not be his biological daughter, but that didn’t make her any less his. Especially now that she had called him _dada_.

He was a father.

 _Her_ father.

“That’s me,” He grinned, scooping her up. “Good morning to you, too. How about we go to the park today?”

She giggled, squishing his cheeks together as she smiled at him.

“Seems you’re doing just find, Phil.” Fury looked almost smug. “Looks like I made the right choice with you.”

Coulson smiled at the ten-month-old in his arms as she smiled broadly at him with those few teeth she had.

“Yeah…I guess you did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this ones a little short, sorry!
> 
> As always, comments are always welcome!


	4. Shots

SHIELD hadn’t changed much in his six-month absence. Coulson was slightly relieved by that. He didn’t want to have to adjust to too many changes at once. Of course, the only big change he noticed as he walked into the New York headquarters was that people were staring at him.

He ignored it, knowing why they were staring. It wasn’t everyday people saw Agent Coulson carrying a one-year-old on his hip as he walked through the lobby. (Y/N) didn’t seem fazed by the looks, opting to play with Coulson’s tie like she always did when he wore one.

“Dada,”

“Yes, (Y/N)?” Coulson sighed looking at the toddler.

She giggled, kissing his cheek. He chuckled as he rolled his eyes while he kept walking. He could see May waiting for him by the elevators. She seemed amused by Coulson’s interaction with his daughter.

“She’s getting big,” May commented as he pressed the button for the elevator.

“Well, that usually happens.” Coulson smirked, then looked to the toddler. “Say hi to Aunt Melinda.”

“Hi,” (Y/N) waved.

May smirked, “Hi, (Y/N).” She then looked at Coulson. “So, you’re taking her to daycare afterwards?”

Coulson sighed, feeling slightly nervous. “I’d rather just keep her with me, but I doubt the director would like that.”

“I don’t know,” May mused, smiling at (Y/N). “She’s a pretty cute kid, you might be able to sway him.”

Coulson snorted, “Yeah, that’ll work.” The elevator doors dinged open, and they stepped inside. Coulson hit the button to go to the medical floor for (Y/N)’s checkup. He noticed May didn’t press a button, and he glanced over at her. “You following me to her checkup?”

“Fury asked me to tag along.” She replied.

“Hope you’re prepared to deal with a one-year-old getting shots.” Coulson replied, noting how May’s brow twitched. “He didn’t tell you that?”

“Nope,” She muttered, looking at the toddler. “She looks pretty happy for a kid about to get shots.”

“She doesn’t know what they are.” Coulson replied, smiling at his daughter. “You ready to get poked by needles, (Y/N)?”

“Yeah!”

Coulson looked to May, “See? No idea.” His amused smile fell into a worried expression. “I…might need some help to hold her down.”

“She’s one, Coulson.”

“She’s not actually human, remember?” Coulson pointed out. “I watched her move an oak coffee table out of the way to get a toy. She shouldn’t have been able to move it.”

May’s eyes rounded slightly as she looked at the toddler. “Seriously?”

Coulson nodded, “Wherever she’s from, they make their kids strong.”

The doors dinged open, and Coulson stepped out. There were SHIELD doctors in white lab coats, nurses in their scrubs, all of them not paying him any mind as he walked through the halls with a toddler on his hip. Coulson went to the front desk, checking in before heading to the waiting room with May behind him. He sat on one of the chairs, sitting (Y/N) in his lap while setting her diaper bag on the chair next to him. May sat on his other side, watching as Coulson made faces at (Y/N) that made her laugh.

“Y’know, it’s weird to see you looking so…domestic.” May noted.

“You get used to it.” Coulson smirked. “You wanna hold her?”

May sighed, holding out her hands to (Y/N). The toddler grabbed Coulson’s tie, not wanting to move. Coulson snorted a laugh, amused that his daughter didn’t want to be held by May.

“I don’t think she likes me.”

“She doesn’t really like anyone.” Coulson admitted with a chuckle. He looked at the toddler. “Right, sweetheart? You just like dad.”

“Dad?”

Coulson looked up to see John Garrett walking into the waiting room. His right arm was in a sling and he had a thick bandage around his neck. He also looked extremely surprised to see Coulson holding a toddler.

“When did you have a kid?” Garrett frowned as he sat across from them. (Y/N) grabbed Coulson’s tie again, burying her face in his chest to avoid looking at Garrett. Coulson wondered what had her so spooked, it wasn’t like (Y/N) to be so shy around someone to this extent.

“About a year ago.” Coulson replied. “What happened to you?”

“Caught in an explosion,” Garrett replied, looking to May. “You the mother?”

May scoffed, “I don’t think so.”

Garrett snorted, “Alright, then who is?”

“She died,” Coulson lied. (Y/N) being from another planet was highly classified, which meant he had to pretend that she wasn’t adopted and was his actual biological daughter. Coulson looked down at the toddler. “Hey, it’s okay, (Y/N).” He patted her back, attempting to soothe her. She peeked up at Coulson, frowning at Garrett for a second before burying her face back in Coulson’s chest. “She’s-uh, she’s shy.”

“I can tell.” Garrett replied, amused.

“Agent Coulson?” A nurse called out.

“Good seeing you, Garrett.” Coulson nodded as he got to his feet. He grabbed the diaper bag, then he and May followed the nurse out of the waiting room.

* * *

Getting shots had left (Y/N) in a bad mood for the next hour. Coulson had tried to make her feel better by buying her ice cream in the cafeteria. She had ended up pushing her cup of chocolate ice cream into the floor instead of eating it. Coulson didn't blame her. He was kind of upset about the whole ordeal, too. Hearing his daughter cry like that had broken his heart and he never wanted to put her through something like that ever again if he could help it.

Now they were in his office and (Y/N) was sitting at a small table in the corner with her crayons and paper. She was scribbling on the paper, looking a little less angry at the world. Coulson went over to the desk, seeing that she was drawing something he could actually see was their backyard. There was the large tree next to the small playground he had gotten for her to play on, the patch of flowers by the fence that (Y/N) loved to smell. He hadn’t been expecting her to draw something so stunningly _good_. Especially from a one year old.

“Wow,” He murmured as he squatted down next to her. “This is amazing, sweetheart.”

“Tanks,” She muttered, continuing to draw grass.

Coulson sighed, “Are you still mad at me?”

“Mad at da doctors.” She scowled at him.

Coulson chuckled, “You needed those shots, baby. You want to grab lunch?”

“Chicken nuggets?”

“Sure, long as you share.” Coulson grinned. The toddler giggled at him, her sour mood quickly leaving her. Coulson was relieved to see her smiling again. “C’mon, let’s get you-“

Coulson stopped as he heard someone knocking on his office door. He sighed, getting to his feet and heading to the door to let the person who knocked inside. As he opened his office door, he was surprised to see Fury there. Usually, Fury had Coulson come to him, so it was odd to see the director coming to Coulson instead.

“Hello, sir.” Coulson greeted as he shut his office door. “Everything okay?”

“Just wanted to see how you were doing on your first day…back.” Fury spotted (Y/N) sitting at her little desk, looking back at him with those big, bright eyes of hers. “You do realize we have daycare, right?” He looked to Coulson, an eyebrow arched.

“She had a rough morning,” Coulson replied. “She had shots today.”

“No like shots!” (Y/N) announced with a frown.

“No one does,” Fury told her. He seemed to be inspecting the toddler rather than just looking at her. Coulson wasn’t sure why, but it made him annoyed and slightly nervous.

"(Y/N),” Coulson went to his daughter. “Come say hi to Director Fury.”

(Y/N) got up from the desk, giving Fury a tentative wave. The way she was looking at him was more inquisitive than anything else. It was as if she were trying to see through Fury, which was an odd thing for Coulson to see from a one-year-old.

“Nice to formally meet you, (Y/N).” Fury kneeled down in front of her and offered his hand. She shook it politely, just like Coulson had taught her. “Last time I saw you, you were just a baby.”

“Like Aunt Linda.” She replied.

Coulson chuckled, “Yeah, just like Aunt Melinda. I guess that means you can call him Uncle Nick.”

Fury scowled up at Coulson, “Uncle Nick?”

(Y/N) giggled, catching Fury’s attention. “Uncle Nick!” She grinned at him, and Coulson could _see_ Fury melting. It was hard to resist a one-year-old’s giggle, especially (Y/N)’s. The kid was just too cute to resist.

Fury sighed, “That’s me.” He got to his feet, looking at Coulson. “Don’t make it a habit to keep her in your office, agent.”

Coulson bit back an amused smirk, “Yes, sir.”

“Can Uncle Nick get lunch wiff us?” (Y/N) asked, tugging on Coulson’s pants leg.

“That’s up to him, sweetheart.” Coulson replied as he scooped up the toddler. She pouted at Fury, her eyes big and pleading. It was amusing to watch the director of SHIELD being swayed by a very convincing 15-month-old.

“Sure, kid.” Fury sighed in defeat.


	5. Protective Father

Coulson was being called in on his day off due to the fact that SHIELD had gotten a lead on the Red Room. He was glad to finally get a lead after six months of dead silence on the program. However, it had come on his day off when the nanny was also off. That meant Coulson was taking a three-year-old to SHIELD on a day that the daycare wouldn’t be open.

(Y/N) bounced excitedly next to him as he held her hand. She was excited to see May, whom she had gotten attached to after May watched her one weekend while Coulson had to take care of a SHIELD mission in Bogota.

“We gonna see Aunt Linda?” She asked as they walked into the building.

“Maybe,” Coulson chuckled. “We’ll definitely be seeing Uncle Nick, though.”

“Yay!” She cried, then practically pulled Coulson along behind her. “C’mon, daddy!”

“I thought I heard you,” Fury smirked as he came around the corner of the hallway. (Y/N) squealed excitedly, racing over to Fury and he scooped her up. She hugged his neck tightly, and Coulson saw Fury wince slightly, unaccustomed to (Y/N)’s enhanced strength. “Good to see you, too, kid.”

“I made you a picture!” (Y/N) announced, then waved her hand to beckon her father closer. “Daddy, give Uncle Nick his picture!”

“I’m looking, calm down.” Coulson chuckled as he dug through (Y/N)’s Little Mermaid backpack. He found the folded up picture, handing it to his daughter who proudly unfolded it and displayed it for Fury. It was a picture of Fury that was very well done for a three-year-old.

“Oh, this is amazing, thank you.” Fury replied, taking the picture. “I’ll make sure to frame it and put it on my desk.”

(Y/N) giggled, “Promise?”

Fury chuckled, “I promise, (Y/N).” Fury then looked to Coulson, his face back to its normal seriousness that Coulson was used to seeing. “I’ll take care of the kid, you get to that meeting.”

“Thank you, sir.” Coulson replied as he handed (Y/N)’s backpack to the director. “(Y/N), be good for Uncle Nick, alright?”

“’kay!” (Y/N) replied as Coulson kissed her head before leaving to attend the meeting.

* * *

The meeting had been met with intel on the Red Room. They now knew what they were doing inside of it, and it made Coulson’s skin crawl and his heart ache. Twenty-eight little girls were being trained to be _assassins_. He couldn’t imagine his own daughter ever having to go through something like that, and he prayed he never would have to.

He was determined to stop the Red Room and to save all those girls, but right now he needed some positivity back in his life. He wanted to see his own daughter, know that she was safe and sound. According to Fury’s secretary, he was down in the training facilities.

Coulson was immediately on high alert when he heard that. The training facilities weren’t made for toddlers, and he couldn’t fathom why Fury would take (Y/N) down there.

Finally, he made his way to the training facility to find that Fury was standing to the side of a blue mat. Coulson’s heart lurched in fear as he saw (Y/N) standing on the mat, hitting a punching bag. There was another SHIELD agent there in a white lab coat, writing down something on his clipboard.             

“What the _hell_ is going on?” Coulson demanded as he rushed over to his daughter. He saw they had even taped up her knuckles like she was some kind of boxer.

"We’re testing her strength.” Fury replied calmly.

“She’s _three_.” Coulson hissed as he began taking the tape off of (Y/N)’s knuckles.

“She doesn’t punch like a three-year-old.” The other agent commented. “She’s going to make a great agent one day.”

Coulson felt rage slam into him like a freight train. “She’s not going to be an agent.” He growled as he finally got all of the tape off of (Y/N)’s hands.

“I don’t think that’s your say, Coulson.” Fury stated.

“You’re right, it’s not.” Coulson snapped as he scooped up the toddler. She was watching the scene before her with wide eyes that were beginning to fill with tears. “It’s hers.” He stepped closer to the director, protectively holding (Y/N) to his side as he glared at his boss. “You didn’t have my consent to _test her_.”

“She belongs to-“

“She’s a _child_!” Coulson snapped. “You can’t just treat her like some science experiment! She is a child with feelings and dreams and you can’t just test her when you damn well please!”

"Daddy?” (Y/N) whimpered, looking scared. Coulson sighed, feeling his anger wash away by disappointment in himself. He had been so careful to not let his daughter see him get angry like this, and here he was yelling while holding her.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He murmured as he kissed her head. He shot Fury a glare. “We’re leaving.”

Coulson carried his daughter out of the training facility, grabbing her backpack off a bench before stepping onto the elevator. He stepped onto the elevator, seeing a few tears had escaped her big eyes, and it made his heart ache to see it.

“It’s alright, baby.” He murmured, wiping the tears away. “I’m sorry I yelled, and I’m not mad at you, okay? I’m not mad at you, (Y/N).”

“Are you mad at Uncle Nick?” She mumbled, fidgeting with his tie.

“You don’t have to worry about it, okay?” Coulson sighed. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She replied with a small smile.

Coulson decided that his daughter would not be coming back to SHIELD.


	6. Firsts

Coulson was a little misty eyed as he got out of his car. It was his daughter’s first day of kindergarten, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t ready for it. The thought of her growing up always made his eyes a little watery, and her going to kindergarten was definitely making him tear up.

He opened the back door, and (Y/N) hopped out with a huge, excited grin on her face. She had her Lion King backpack on, her matching lunchbox in her hand. She looked up at him with those big bright eyes of hers.

“You excited?” Coulson chuckled as he took her hand.

“Yeah!” She replied as they walked. “This is gonna be fun, daddy!”

“I know, I’m jealous. I wish I could go to kindergarten with you.” He replied as they walked into the school. “Nap time sounds fun.”

“I’m excited for art!” She beamed.

Coulson chuckled, noticing just how infectious his daughter’s enthusiasm was. He wasn’t a big art buff before, but ever since (Y/N) had become fascinated with any and all art, he had decided to take more of an interest in it. (Y/N) was a huge fan of J. M. W. Turner, and Coulson found that her paintings were reminiscent of his style.

“I’m sure you’ll be the best in the class.” Coulson assured her.

“Maybe,” She shrugged. “I just want to paint.”

Coulson found Ms. Williams’ classroom, leading (Y/N) inside. There were other parents there, dropping off their own kids. The children looked excited, and the majority of the parents seemed upset about their kids now being in kindergarten. He could understand that, he wasn’t exactly thrilled to have his little girl growing up.

Coulson kneeled down, noticing that (Y/N) was looking around at the other kids with curious eyes. Finally, she met his gaze and gave him a big smile.

“You gonna be okay, sweetheart?”

She rolled her eyes, “I’ll be fine, daddy.”

He sighed, “I know, but I still worry. I’ll pick you up at three, but if something happens, I’ll be here as fast as humanly possible.”

“I’ll be okay,” She assured him, kissing his cheek. “I love you, daddy.”

He could feel tears pricking the backs of his eyes. “I love you, too, (Y/N). Have fun, alright?”

“I will!” She grinned, giving him a final hug before she darted over to where the kids were hanging up their backpacks. Coulson got to his feet, feeling an aching pride in his chest. He was proud that (Y/N) had grown so independent, but it was still hard to see her growing up so fast. It had seemed like she had been that little baby just yesterday. Now she was going to kindergarten and soon she’d be graduating, and he just wasn’t ready for any of this.

“First kid?” A man smirked at him. He was standing with a woman who was wiping away a few tears.

“Yeah,” Coulson replied, offering his hand. “Phil Carter.” He used his cover name, seeing as that’s what name he had put on all of his paperwork.

“Mark and Helen Reynolds,” The man replied as he shook Coulson’s hand. “We just dropped our youngest off today. Helen always cries, even after three kids.”

“I can’t help it!” Helen swatted at her husband. She gave Coulson a smile. “I can tell you’re nervous, Phil. Don’t worry, your kid is going to have a great time here. You just have to remember they need to spread their wings and fly.”

“Thanks, I’ll try to remember that.” Coulson nodded as his phone beeped. He tried not to focus on how cheesy Helen sounded as he checked his phone to see that Fury needed him at SHIELD. “I better get going. It was nice meeting you.”

“Nice meeting you, too, Phil.” Mark replied.

Coulson looked towards the large group of kids, finding that (Y/N) was talking with a little girl with the same pigtails as her. She looked up, giving Coulson a wave that he returned before quickly making it out of the classroom before he could cry.

* * *

Teaching a five-year-old to ride a bike seemed easy enough. He had even gone out and bought (Y/N) a bike that was her favorite color with matching streamers. She had been thrilled to get the bike, and was eager to learn how to ride it the same day.

Coulson buckled her helmet under her chin, making sure it was secure.

“Alright, remember what I told you?”

“To keep my balance and keep pedaling.” She repeated his instructions. “I can do this, let’s go!” She climbed onto the bike, putting one foot on the pedal. Coulson steadied the bike so she could put her other foot on the pedal. He could see a flash of nervousness in her bright eyes, and he realized he was a little nervous about the whole thing, too. However, he schooled his emotions to be reassuring so she wouldn’t get freaked out.

“Ready?”

“Promise not to let go?” She mumbled as she looked at him.

“Just pedal, alright?” He smiled.

He kept a firm grip on the bike as she began to pedal. Once he began to jog next to her, he let go, stopping to watch as she rode further down the sidewalk.

“You got this!” He called out to her.

She gasped, looking behind her to see he had let go. She turned back around, continuing to pedal. The bike wobbled for a brief, terrifying second before she got control back. Coulson grinned proudly as she continued down the sidewalk. She was riding a bike, and he could feel that aching pride in his chest again. She was always growing up, and he was pretty sure he would never get over it-

(Y/N) tumbled off the bike, rolling across the pavement and into the quiet street. She howled in pain, and Coulson shot off towards her. He kneeled next to her, seeing blood pouring down her leg as fast as the tears on her cheeks.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” He told her as he scooped her up. He ignored the bike as he rushed back to the house, darting inside and taking her to the kitchen. He sat her on the counter and began to asses just how bad the gash in her shin was.

It was a large wound, and he knew from experience that she would need stitches. He cursed under his breath as he pressed a wad of paper towels to her shin.

“Sweetheart—(Y/N), I need you to hold this to your leg, baby.” He told her as gently as he could. He moved her hand to the paper towels that were quickly turning red from all the blood. He carefully picked her up, taking her to the garage and putting her in the backseat. He quickly buckled her in, then got into the driver’s seat and managed to get the garage door open with his shaking hands. He sped out of the garage, heading for the nearby hospital.

“You’re going to be okay, (Y/N).” He assured her, managing to keep the tremor of fear out of his voice.

He had seen worse wounds than this on himself, but just _seeing_ his daughter hurt sent him into a panic. He had been so careful to keep her from getting hurt, even getting her away from SHEILD that wanted to test her every chance they got. Now she was bleeding in his backseat and sobbing in pain.

Finally, they made it to the ER, and Coulson rushed her inside. The nurse who took them into the back was calm, assuring him that everything was going to be fine. Coulson sat (Y/N) on the cot, taking off her helmet while the nurse began cleaning the wound.

“It hurts, daddy.” (Y/N) whimpered, tears staining her cheeks. She had blood on her hands from holding the paper towels, and Coulson wished he could take the pain from her. Anything to make her feel better. He couldn’t believe he had allowed her to be hurt like this. He was her father, he should have done a better job protecting her.

“I know, but it’ll stop hurting, I promise.” He murmured as he kissed her head.

“She’s going to need stitches.” The nurse stated, looking up at Coulson, then looking at (Y/N). “I’m going to have to give you a shot-“

“No!” (Y/N) gasped, more tears pouring down her cheeks as she looked up at Coulson. “Please, daddy, no shots!”

His heart broke at her pleading, “I’m sorry, but you need to get one so they can give you stitches.”

She sobbed harder, trying to get away from the nurse. Coulson grabbed her arms, holding her against him as the nurse grabbed a syringe filled the local anesthetic. (Y/N) thrashed against him, and Coulson grunted with effort to keep her held down. The nurse looked shocked at (Y/N)’s show of strength, but she pushed aside her surprise to help hold (Y/N) down so she could inject the anesthetic. The nurse was quick, and Coulson wrenched his eyes shut as he heard (Y/N) yelping in pain from the needle, then more sobbing that wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been before.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Coulson repeated into her hair as he still held her. “It’s almost over, alright?”

The nurse quickly stitched up the gash in (Y/N)’s chin, taping gauze over it and wrapping an ace bandage around it for good measure.

“You did so good,” She told (Y/N). “I’m sorry about the shot, sweetie.”

“It’s okay,” (Y/N) sniffled, clutching Coulson’s tie like she did when she was younger. “Can I go home now?”

“Not without your lollipop.” The nurse smiled, grabbing a red lollipop from a canister. “I think you deserve it, right dad?”

“She definitely deserves it,” Coulson chuckled lightly, smoothing (Y/N)’s hair back from her face. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” She mumbled as she took the wrapper off of the candy before putting it in her mouth. “I wanna go home, daddy.”

“We will,” He promised. “I’m sure I have some paperwork to fill out really quick, but as soon as that’s done, we’ll go home. We can watch the Little Mermaid, yeah?”

She nodded, still sniffling.

* * *

A day after the bike incident, Coulson was replacing the gauze around (Y/N)’s shin when he realized that her wound was healing a lot faster than it should be. The stitches didn’t even seem necessary anymore.

Worry filled him as he was once again reminded that his daughter wasn’t a normal child. She was from a different world, a world where kids could heal from wounds that required eight stitches in days.

He had no idea what to do about the high healing factor that his daughter obviously had. She not only had a high healing factor, but she was stronger, faster, and so much smarter than kids her age. It was startling to be reminded that his daughter wasn’t normal, and he wondered how that would affect her as she grew up.

“Is my leg okay?” (Y/N) asked nervously, pulling Coulson out of his racing thoughts.

“Yeah, it’s good,” Coulson gave her the best encouraging smile he could manage. “I think we can even take the stitches out.”

Her eyes rounded in fear. “Is it gonna hurt?”

"Nope,” He replied, grabbing a pair of scissors. (Y/N) gasped quietly, watching as he snipped a stitch, then pulled the thread out. She winced at the sight of it, looking slightly disgusted. “I don’t even think you’re gonna have a scar, kid. Aren’t you lucky?”

She giggled, “Thanks, daddy.”

“How about you go paint while I make a phone call?” He suggested as he picked her up off the counter in the kitchen and sat her on the ground.

She nodded, then went to her bedroom to paint.

Coulson grabbed his phone out of his pocket, dialing Fury’s personal number.

“ _This better be important if you’re calling me on this line._ ” Fury stated as he answered the phone.

“It’s about (Y/N).” Coulson replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t too eager to go to Fury for help with (Y/N) considering all Fury wanted to do was turn (Y/N) into a SHIELD agent and test her 24/7.

“ _Is she okay_?” Fury asked, sounding genuinely worried for the five-year-old.

“She wrecked her bike yesterday and I had to get her stitches.” Coulson explained. “I went to change the bandage this morning, and it was already scabbed over and didn’t need the stitches.”

 _"Sounds like she’s got a high-healing factor._ ” Fury murmured after a moment. “ _That’s not something I want to test, Phil._ ” Coulson couldn’t help the scoff that escaped his chest. Thankfully, the director ignored it. _“Keep an eye on her, let me know if you find out any more about her abilities._ ”

“Thank you, sir.” Coulson replied. “And hey…she’s having a birthday party next week, I think you should come.”

Coulson hadn’t invited Fury to (Y/N)’s past two birthday parties. He had still been upset over Fury doing tests on (Y/N) without his consent. But hearing that Fury didn’t seem to want to test her anymore had him reconsidering his decision to keep Fury away from (Y/N).

“ _I’ll see you then, Phil._ ”


	7. Birthday Party

Coulson was pretty sure he would prefer to be doing stacks of paperwork than run a birthday party for a six-year-old. His house was currently full of kids from (Y/N)’s class and their parents seemed to be milling about as well.

Unfortunately, that meant that Helen the Soccer Mom was at his home and he was _losing his mind_.

Helen was in charge of parties and other random things for the class, which mean she was a very over-involved parent. Coulson was trying to avoid being around her as much as possible, but it seemed that Helen the Soccer Mom could find him anywhere.

“Phil!” She waved at him while grinning as she walked over to him. He fought the urge to scowl as she got closer. He needed to be nice to these people to keep up with his cover so (Y/N) could have a somewhat normal childhood. “I was hoping I could talk to you about-“

“The bake sale. Yeah—I figured.” He sighed, already annoyed. Helen had been calling him twice a day for the past _week_ to remind him about the bake sale and what was allowed to be sold at the damn thing. The list of things he _couldn’t_ bake was longer, and Helen liked to remind him as often as she could.

“It’s coming up next week, and I want to make sure that you fully understand what can be sold.” Helen nodded seriously. “We don’t want any of the kids to have-“

“Look,” Coulson cut her off. He had had _enough_ of this woman’s constant annoyance, and he was putting an end to it today. “I get it, you’re very _excited_ about this bake sale. I’m sure you don’t have much else going on in your life, but I do, and if you keep calling me _every day_ I will have you framed for terrorism.”

Helen’s overly-blue-eye-shadowed eyes rounded in shock.

“I’m glad we could have this discussion, Helen. Now, I’ve got things to do that don’t involve being harassed by you.” Coulson gave her a polite smile. “By the way, thanks for coming to the party.”

He walked past her, a sense of triumph filling him as he headed for the living room where the kids were playing a very rousing game of pretend. He saw that (Y/N) was sitting by the coffee table, drawing in the sketchpad that Coulson had bought her after the bike incident while the other kids played.

Coulson went to her, kneeling down to see what she was drawing. It was a picture of the kids playing, and as usual—it was incredibly well done. Her art skills were getting better and better as the days went on, and Coulson was glad to see she had found something she loved so much. However, he wished she would go play with the other kids considering it was her party.

“Don’t you wanna play with the other kids, (Y/N)?” Coulson murmured, trying to keep his worry from showing on his face.

“Not really,” She shrugged, looking up from her drawing. “Besides, I don’t think they really like me, daddy.”

Coulson frowned, “Why do you think they don’t like you, sweetheart?”

Another shrug as she went back to drawing. “I just don’t think they like me.”

The doorbell rang, and Coulson sighed. He pressed a kiss to his daughter’s head before he got to his feet. He headed for the front door, opening it to reveal Fury and May. They were both dressed in civilian clothing, both of them carrying wrapped presents.

“Ugh, it sounds loud.” May complained as she stepped inside.

“Well, there are quite a few kids here,” Coulson chuckled as he shut the door behind them. “Glad you guys could make it.”

“Well, considering I haven’t actually seen the kid in over two years, I didn’t want to miss this.” Fury replied.

“Yeah…” Coulson rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh. “Well, I had my reasons to keep her away from you, sir.”

“Which I should apologize for.” Fury nodded. “I should remember that (Y/N) is like any other kid. Where is she, by the way-“

“Uncle Nick!” (Y/N) darted out of the living room and wrapped her arms around Fury’s waist. Coulson noticed how Fury winced slightly at the force of the hug, and Coulson could definitely understand that. (Y/N) didn’t know the kind of strength she had. Fury leaned down, hugging the girl back. (Y/N) then hugged May’s waist with just as much strength. “You guys made it!”

“I couldn’t miss seeing your dad’s face when you open this.” Fury held up the gift in his hand.

“Should I be worried?” Coulson frowned.

“It’s harmless,” Fury replied with a smirk as he leaned in to whisper. “It’s a toy shield.”

“Oh,” Coulson snorted. “Well, I’m sure she’ll love that.”

“Like Captain America’s shield?” (Y/N) gasped excitedly.

Fury looked down at her, eyebrows raising slightly. “You heard that?”

(Y/N) nodded, “I have really good hearing, Uncle Nick. Hey!” She looked up at Coulson. “When can we have cake?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coulson and Helen the Soccer Mom are mortal enemies.


	8. Mother's Day

When Coulson called in his favor she owed him, May had thought he would be asking her to go on some insanely crazy mission. However, what Coulson had asked her to do was accompany his daughter to a Mother’s Day thing at her school.

May wasn’t exactly sure why any of this was such a big deal. Mother’s Day was just another holiday that didn’t seem exactly necessary. But, she couldn’t exactly turn down (Y/N). The kid was very persuasive when she pouted and batted those long lashes of hers at you. May wasn’t _heartless_.

Walking up to the school sent a slight shiver of nervousness through her. It was an odd feeling, but she understood why she was feeling it. She wasn’t exactly good with children. She barely managed to handle herself around (Y/N). Of course, (Y/N) wasn’t a normal five-year-old, she was an alien and didn’t know it, so it just seemed easier to be around her because she wasn’t as breakable as other children.

(Y/N) was bouncing as she walked next to May, holding May’s hand in her little grip. She seemed excited to be bringing her Aunt Melinda to school for an hour, and May couldn’t help but feel a little excited herself. (Y/N)’s excitement was highly contagious.

“This is my school!” (Y/N) announced as she pulled May through the front door. “I come here a lot to learn stuff.”

“So I hear,” May smiled down at her. “Your dad talks a lot.”

(Y/N) giggled, “He does!”

May snorted a laugh at the child’s agreement. She let (Y/N) lead her through the school and down to her classroom where children were milling about with their mothers. Some had even brought their grandmothers to the festivities.

May looked down at (Y/N), seeing she was noticing the other kids with their real mothers and their grandmothers. She couldn’t imagine what was going through the kid’s head, and May silently vowed to make sure (Y/N) had an amazing day at school.

“Where’s your desk?” May asked her.

(Y/N)’s eyes lit up as she pulled May over to her desk. She proudly announced that this was her desk, where she did all of her work.

“Oh!” (Y/N) gasped. “I gotta put up my backpack. I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere.”

“I don’t have anywhere to be.” May promised her as she sat down in the tiny chair that accompanied the tiny desk. Everything was so small here, and May found it a little hilarious.

(Y/N) darted off to hang her backpack up on a hook on the wall. A woman walked over, smiling at May. From the hideous blue eyeshadow that was caked on, she knew it was Helen Reynolds- The soccer mom Coulson was always complaining about. Apparently, the woman was horrifically obnoxious. May wasn't too thrilled to be meeting her. 

"Hi, I’m Helen,” She introduced herself. “I’m Alex’s mom. Are you (Y/N)’s mother?”

“I’m actually her aunt,” May replied. “Melinda.”

“Oh,” Helen blinked, her overly made up eyes seemed to show her worry. “Could (Y/N)’s mother not make it?”

“She died.” May stated. “Car accident.” She knew Coulson’s cover story, and she knew she had to stick to it. Still, it was odd to think of Coulson as someone who would get married. The man was already married to his job. 

“Oh, my word.” Helen gasped, putting a hand over her heart as her brow furrowed in concern. “I wasn’t aware. Was it recent?”

“No, it was a few years ago.” May answered. “I’d rather not talk about it in front of (Y/N).”

“Oh, of course!” Helen nodded eagerly. “Right, sorry. It’s so nice of you to fill in for her. I’m sure little (Y/N) is so excited.”

(Y/N) came back over, hopping right into May’s lap as May sat at her desk. She peered up at Helen, eyeing her skeptically. May had to bite back a laugh. The kid was basically a Coulson Jr, and she was finding it _hilarious_. (Y/N) may have been adopted, but she definitely had the same expression Coulson did when he didn't like someone. A kind, tight smile and a glimmer of the eyes that said everything.

“Hi, (Y/N).” Helen smiled, and May could see a look of pity in the woman’s eyes she didn’t like. 

“I think it’s about time for things to start, you might want to find your kid.” May said as politely as she could manage. Helen excused herself, and (Y/N) turned to look up at May.

“I don’t like her.”

May snorted, “Me either, kid.”

(Y/N) giggled, “Daddy doesn’t like her either. He says she’s a busybody and that her eyeshadow is ugly.”

May snickered, “Well, he's not wrong.”

“Thanks for coming today, Aunt Melinda.” (Y/N) beamed at her. May had never had a kid _beam_ at her like that, and it made her chest a little tight.

“Thanks for asking me, kid.” May nodded, pressing a kiss to her niece's head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is short, but I really wanted to write this chapter and get it posted before Mother's Day. 
> 
> Growing up I didn't have my mom around to go to "Mother's Day" stuff at school. I had my aunts and my grandmother come to them, and I wanted to write something to honor the AMAZING women who step into the roles of mother for their biological/honorary nieces and nephews or grandchildren. 
> 
> I also apologize for not updating as frequently! Work has been super hectic, and I've been working the graveyard shift for the past few days and have been utterly exhausted! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter!   
> \--  
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated!!


	9. New Ability

Bringing an eight-year-old to SHIELD was always an odd thing. At least when (Y/N) was smaller, he could just drop her off at daycare. However, now he was forced to bring her to his office whenever he was called in on weekends.

(Y/N) didn’t seem to mind. She usually sat in his office at the small desk he had set up for her and drew. The kid was enamored with anything art related, and Coulson was always taking her to art museums when he had time off. She loved every little bit of it. However, he did wish that she had friends her age to play with.

It wasn’t like he didn’t try to get her to invite friends over. He always asked if she wanted to have someone over. Whenever he asked, she would give him a small smile and tell him she didn’t want to invite anyone over.

Whenever he would pick her up from school, she would be standing off by herself while the other kids conversed and had fun. It always troubled him she didn’t make friends, and he wondered if the other kids could sense that (Y/N) was different from them.

He pushed his worry over his daughter’s lack of friends as Agent Garrett walked into his office. Coulson’s eyes flicked over to (Y/N), seeing her stiffen slightly as she noticed who had walked in. She quickly turned to her drawing and seemed to be focusing even more on it.

(Y/N) did _not_ like Agent Garrett, and Coulson couldn’t figure out why. Garrett was a good agent, and he had saved Coulson’s ass more than once out in the field. So, it was odd that (Y/N) didn’t like the guy.

“Oh,” Garrett frowned at the eight-year-old before looking at Coulson. “Um, how exactly are we supposed to talk about _sensitive_ info when there’s a kid in the room?”

“Spanish,” Coulson replied.

Garrett nodded, then began to go in depth of what he had found out about the Red Room. Coulson felt his stomach turn as Garrett told him about the medical testing happening on those poor girls in the program, and he was glad that (Y/N) couldn’t-

“Why are they hurting those girls?”

Both men looked at the girl, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“(Y/N),” Coulson went over to her and kneeled next to the desk. He could see tears in her big eyes, and he realized she had _understood everything_ Garrett had said. “How do you know Spanish?”

“I-“ She frowned in confusion. “It sounded like English, daddy.”

“Pretty sure I was speaking in Spanish.” Garrett muttered. Coulson could see he was staring at (Y/N) as if he were inspecting her.

“Thank you for the report, Garrett.” Coulson got to his feet and headed to the phone on his desk. “You can go.”

“I think I’d like to stay and find out why Coulson Jr. over there knows Spanish without _actually_ knowing Spanish.”

“I said you’re free to go.” Coulson snapped.

Garrett held his hands up in defense, then quietly left the room. Coulson saw how he cast one final look at (Y/N) as if he was trying to figure her out before he left the room.

Coulson called Fury.

“ _Thought you were handling the report on the Red Room?”_ Fury growled as he answered the phone.

“There’s a problem,” Coulson murmured. “Garrett was giving the report in Spanish because (Y/N) was in the room…and she understood everything.”

“ _You taught her Spanish?”_ Fury snorted.

“No, that’s the problem.” Coulson replied. “She said it sounded like we were speaking English, and…I think it might be another… _ability_.”

“ _Looks like we need to run a few tests._ ”

Coulson groaned, “Nothing invasive-“

 _Of course not,_ ” Fury cut him off. “ _We’re just gonna see just how many languages sound like English to the kid. This might explain why she was able to speak in full sentences by the time she was one.”_

Coulson sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Thank you, sir.” He hung up, then walked over to (Y/N). She looked up from her drawing, nervously chewing on her bottom lip.

“I’m sorry about listening to the report.” She mumbled.

“It’s alright,” Coulson replied, smoothing her hair back from her face. “Uncle Nick wants to run a few tests and see how many languages you know. It’ll be like a game.”

She nodded, “Okay, daddy. S’long as there’s no shots.”

He chuckled, “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, Allspeak is such a fun thing.


	10. Strength

Coulson was elbow deep in paperwork when he got the phone call. He probably should have expected this call sooner, but it was still a shock to hear that his nine-year-old daughter broke another kid’s wrist. The principal did _not_ sound happy, and when Coulson arrived at the school, he could tell the principal was incredibly angry about what happened. Not to mention a little freaked out.

“So,” Coulson sighed as he let down the top on Lola. He glanced over at (Y/N) who was looking down at her hands that were fidgeting in her lap. “Wanna tell me what happened?”

“Alex Reynolds tried to take my sketchbook.” She mumbled, not looking away from her hands. “I grabbed his wrist and he wouldn’t let go…so I squeezed. Then there was a cracking noise and he started screaming.”

Coulson pressed his lips into a thin line, swallowing nervously. It seemed that as (Y/N) got older, the stronger she became. She now had the strength to break a kid’s wrist with one hand, and Coulson was suddenly very nervous as to how different his daughter truly was compared to normal kids her age.

“Sounds like it was an accident, (Y/N).” Coulson murmured, glancing over to see she was looking at him. Tears were starting to glimmer in her eyes, and he could tell just how guilty she was over hurting someone accidentally.

“I’m really sorry, dad.” She stated. “I just wanted my sketchbook back.”

“Sweetheart, you’re not in trouble.” He assured her. “How about when we get to the office, we go see Uncle Nick, hm?”

“What about Aunt Melinda?”

“Sorry, kid,” Coulson sighed. “Aunt Melinda is sort of out of the country right now. I promise we can see her when she gets back.”

* * *

Fury hadn’t expected to see Coulson’s daughter today. Of course, he couldn’t say he was upset to see the kid. For some reason, (Y/N) had really grown on him, and he kept just about every drawing or painting she made him. The kid was an amazing artist, and he was already imagining her painting something nice to hang in his office when she got older and even better.

“Hi, Uncle Nick.” She greeted, and he could see guilt splashed across her face.

“Hey, kid,” He replied. “Everything okay?”

“They- Uh, they sent her home early because she accidentally broke a kid’s wrist.” Coulson explained gently, putting a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. “It’s sort of why I brought her here instead of taking the day off.”

Fury nodded, understanding what Coulson meant.

(Y/N) didn’t know that she was at a SHIELD office, she just knew it was an office where her dad worked. She was too young to know that her father was a SHIELD agent, and Fury wanted to keep it that way until (Y/N) was old enough to not go blabbing that her father worked for SHIELD. It wouldn’t bode well for Coulson’s cover he’d established in New Jersey.

“How about we play a game?” Fury looked down at (Y/N). Her eyes lit up and she grinned up at him. He offered his hand, and she took it, allowing him to lead her towards the elevators. “I wanna see just how hard you can punch, kid. I bet you could punch even harder than me _or_ your dad.”

She grinned, “You're on, Uncle Nick!" 

* * *

Fury could see Coulson was worried about the kid. The tests were finished, and the results were splashed across the screen in front of them. It seemed that (Y/N) had the strength of an adult male and she would only get stronger as the days went by.

Coulson was usually pretty good about keeping his emotions schooled. However, when it came to his daughter, the man couldn’t seem to hide his worry. His brow was furrowed at the moment, and he kept rubbing his hand on the lower half of his face as if he were trying to erase his worried frown.

When Fury had put (Y/N) into Coulson’s care, he wasn’t exactly expecting Coulson to become so attached to the kid. It was odd to see one of the greatest SHIELD agents in the world looking so worried over a kid that wasn’t actually his-

Well, now that Fury thought about it. (Y/N) was more than just Coulson’s kid legally. The kid was all Coulson. The way she studied everything around her, the sarcastic little one-liners that she let slip every once in a while. Not to mention she loved Coulson. Fury could see it in the way she would always hold his hand in the office as if she could sense how nervous Coulson was to bring her into SHIELD.

“Phil?”

Coulson tore his eyes away from the screen to look at Fury. The man schooled his emotions into the usual blank expression, but Fury could see the worry in the man’s eyes.

“Sir?”

“You alright?”

Coulson sighed, scrubbing a hand across his face. “I keep forgetting she’s not a normal kid until something like this happens and we have to run tests.” He crossed his arms, turning back to the results on the screen. “Most of the time she just seems like a normal nine-year-old. She’s such an amazing kid, sir. She loves Disney movies, drawing and painting, she hates broccoli, and it’s all so… _normal_ until something like this happens.” He turned back to Fury, a helpless look in his eyes. “She _broke_ another kid’s wrist with one hand. That’s something most adults can’t do! How do I even explain this to her without telling her she’s adopted?”

Fury blinked, “Coulson, you haven’t told her she’s adopted yet?”

Coulson groaned, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes for a moment before looking at Fury. “How do I tell her that her real parents sent her to _another planet_? How do I explain to my daughter that she’s not human?”

“You’ll have to figure that out eventually, Coulson.” Fury stated, clapping the agent on the shoulder. “She’s gonna figure out eventually that it’s not normal for her to be busting open punching bags.”

Coulson sighed, looking out of the one-way mirror to see (Y/N) running around the lab playing tag with a few scientists who had volunteered to keep her busy while Fury and Coulson talked.

“I just don’t want her to be upset, Nick.” Coulson turned to the director, a sincere look in his eyes. “I don’t want her to feel like she wasn’t wanted.”

“Phil,” Fury sighed, giving the agent a small smile. “That kid is very much wanted by the people who love her.” He crossed his arms, peering into the room where (Y/N) was still playing tag and giggling wildly at the scientists who were keeping her entertained. He looked back at Coulson. “When I put her in your care, I wasn’t expecting you to get so attached to her. I thought I was giving her to an agent who would groom her into becoming an agent, but I see that I put her into the care of the one man who would raise her as his own. You may not be her biological father, but your damn well her real father. When you do tell her that she’s adopted—that’s she’s from another planet—she’ll be able to handle it because you’ve raised her so well.”

Coulson blinked in surprise. Fury couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t often the director of SHIELD was so sincerely nice to someone.

“Thank you, sir.” Coulson nodded, smiling. “Not only for what you said…but for letting me be the one to take (Y/N) in. And as for her becoming an agent…” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not sure if I’m comfortable with that.”

“I’m not either, now.” Fury admitted, slightly bitter. “I’ve gotten attached to the kid, and I’d rather her not be in the line of fire.”

Coulson snorted in amusement. “She really grows on you, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Fury muttered, looking back into the lab. “Kid’s a damn menace.” He meant to sound annoyed, but he couldn’t help the amused smirk on his face as he watched the nine-year-old.


	11. The Truth Comes Out

Picking up (Y/N) from school had gotten extremely hard once she got to high school. She sometimes would be carrying a large canvas from her art class she wanted to hang up in her room at home. Coulson was having trouble fitting the canvases she had in Lola.

Thankfully, he had decided to buy her a car for her eighteenth birthday. Unfortunately, she would be out of school by then. Which meant that poor Lola’s trunk was being stuffed canvases and other art supplies most of the time.

Today (Y/N) walked out of the school with a spectacular looking black eye that had him on high alert. It wasn’t often a fifteen-year-old girl had a shiner like that, and he knew it didn’t come from from some random accident.

Someone had punched her.

“What happened?” Coulson demanded as she got into the car. Today she didn’t have a giant canvas, just her backpack that was now sitting in her lap as she hugged it.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” She muttered.

“(Y/N)-“

“Dad, I’m fine.” She snapped, hugging her bag tighter. “Can we just go home? I have a lot of homework.”

Coulson sighed, starting the engine up and driving out of the parking lot. He kept glancing over at (Y/N), gauging how fast her black eye would be healing. Thankfully, (Y/N) didn’t seem to notice just how fast she healed. Coulson was worried she would one day figure out that she wasn’t a normal kid, and he would have to explain to her that she was adopted, and how he had ended up adopting her.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t afraid to tell her. He wasn’t sure how she would react. (Y/N) was usually well mannered, a little quiet at times, opting to stay by herself. Coulson had noticed over the years that she hadn’t made any long-term friendships. She was a loner by nature, and it concerned him slightly. He wanted her to make friends, to be as normal as possible…but it seemed that she just wasn’t made to make friends easily.

He pulled into the garage, parking the car. Before he even turned off the engine, (Y/N) got out of the car, slamming the door before heading up to the door to enter the kitchen. He sighed, pocketing his keys as he went after her. Coulson found her going into her room, slamming the door.

He knocked lightly on the door, “(Y/N)?”

“Leave me alone, dad, I’m fine.” She muttered in reply.

“(Y/N), I know when you’re not fine.” He pointed out. “Just…talk to me, sweetheart, okay?”

She threw the door open, and Coulson got a closer look at the black eye. It was definitely from being punched, and he noticed that it was already darkening as if it were healing. Bruises always got worse before they got better.

“I’m fine.”

“Stop saying that, kid. You’re not fine.” Coulson growled, grabbing her chin gently and turning her head to get a better look at the black eye. “Who hit you?”

She avoided looking at him as he let go of her. She let out a huff of a sigh.

“Alex Reynolds.” She grumbled in defeat.

“A _boy_ hit you?” Coulson blanched. “What the hell?”

“To be fair, I punched him first.” (Y/N) replied as she crossed her arms.

“Why did you punch him?”

She sighed, clearly annoyed with having to talk about it. “He was picking on this girl, calling her all these mean names because she’s a lesbian. I got tired of his mouth, so I punched him in the mouth. Once he stopped crying he punched me in the eye.”

 “Why didn’t the school call me?” Coulson growled, already planning on speaking to the principal for keeping something like this from him.

“Because it happened behind the school by the football field.” (Y/N) sighed, pushing her hair out of her face. “Look, it’s not a big deal, dad-“

“You got _punched_ , (Y/N)!” Coulson cut her off. “This is a huge deal! What if he really hurt you?”

(Y/N) snorted, “Yeah, I doubt that could happen.”

Coulson frowned, his chest tightening in fear. “Why do you say that?”

“Dad, if you haven’t noticed, I’m not normal.” She muttered, looking slightly embarrassed. “I mean, remember when I was five and I fell off my bike and needed stitches? Apparently, you’re not supposed to heal that fast from a wound like that. Then there’s the fact that I can run the mile course in PE in under four minutes without even trying.”

Coulson blinked. So (Y/N) had finally realized she wasn’t normal. He swallowed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him, “You already knew that, didn’t you? Dad, are you not telling me something?”

“I-“ He stopped, hesitating. “I think we should see Uncle Nick.”

“Another not normal thing,” She muttered as she followed him back to the garage. “I have an uncle who’s the _director_ of SHIELD.”

* * *

 

(Y/N) stared at the photos in front of her. They were the photos from seventeen years ago when she had been found in the New Mexican desert. Coulson could see she was shocked to find out exactly just how different she was to everyone else. She sat the photos down, picking up the gold bracelet that had been in SHIELD custody since Coulson had officially adopted her. She inspected the delicate engravings on the bracelet.

“(Y/N)?” Coulson murmured nervously. “I need you to say something, sweetheart. I don’t like how quiet you’re being.”

“Why are you just telling me now that I’m…adopted?” She looked up at him, and he could see tears were starting to well in her bright eyes.

Coulson sighed, hesitating for a brief moment. “I’ve been terrified you weren’t going to take it well.” He finally admitted. “And even though you’re adopted, you’re still my daughter. That’s never going to change, sweetheart.”

“I…I’m from a different _planet_?”

“We think so.” Fury nodded, looking slightly worried for his adoptive niece. “There’s not much for us to go on, considering we didn’t even think there were others out there or that they’d send a baby to our planet.”

“So…you don’t know what I am?” She whispered as the tears began to fall. “I’m just…I’m just lost. I don’t _belong_ here-“

"Hey,” Coulson stopped her, grabbing her hand. “You _do_ belong here, (Y/N). Don’t for one second think that this changes anything about you. You’re still (Y/N) Carter, my daughter—the painter. You’re still the same person-“

“I’m not even a person!” She shouted, wrenching her hand away from his. “I’m—I’m an _alien_! And why was I even sent here? Why didn’t my real parents-“ Her voice cracked as her bottom lip began to quiver. “Why didn’t they _want_ me?”

Coulson sighed, his heart breaking as he saw how distraught his daughter was. If he could find her real parents and shake some sense into them for getting rid of such an amazing person he would. But he couldn’t do that, all he could do was be there for (Y/N) and show her that he loved her more than anything.

“I don’t know,” He admitted quietly, squeezing her shoulder. “But I do know that I love you, (Y/N). You’re the _best_ thing to happen to me.”

She got to her feet, “I- I need some air.” She took off out the door. Coulson cursed under his breath before racing after her. He saw the front door was open, meaning that she had left the house. He hurried out to the porch, noticing that (Y/N) was nowhere to be found.

“Where’d she go?” Fury demanded as he joined Coulson on the porch.

“I don’t know, she could be anywhere by now.” Coulson muttered as he took off down the sidewalk to hopefully see if (Y/N) was nearby. He looked around, seeing that she was truly gone. An idea struck him, and he took off running down the sidewalk with Fury on his heels.

Finally, they made it to the park, and Coulson raced in to find that (Y/N) was sitting next to a pond on a bench. Her head was in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she cried. Coulson’s heart shattered at the sight, and he hurried over to her.

He quietly sat on the bench next to her, waiting for her to notice him. He stared at the calm water of the pond, feeling a sense of nostalgia hit him under the pain of knowing how distraught his daughter was. 

Once (Y/N)’s crying slowed, he spoke.

“When you were little, I would bring you to this park.” He murmured, a small, wistful smile on his face. “We would feed the ducks, and you were so excited to be so close to them. I was always terrified you would fall in, so I always kept a firm hold on you just in case.” He glanced over at her, seeing she was looking up at him with tears still glittering in her eyes. “You asked if we could take one of the ducks home.”

She gave him a small smile, “I really wanted a duck.”

“Most kids want a puppy, but not you.” Coulson chuckled, putting an arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder as she sniffled. “I even tried to talk you into a puppy, and you just kept telling me _No, daddy! I wanna duck!”_

(Y/N) laughed quietly, “Is it bad I still want a duck?”

“We are not getting a duck, (Y/N).” Coulson said sternly, but he was smiling at her. The smile fell slightly as she looked away from him at the water. Her brow furrowed in the way that told him she was thinking. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, sweetheart. I guess…I guess I didn’t want to see you upset. I don’t know what it’s like to be adopted, but I want you to know I love you so much, alright?”

“I love you, too, dad.” She mumbled, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her jacket. “I just…I can’t help but wonder _why_ my real parents didn’t want me. Why they sent me to a completely different planet…”

“That’s a normal thing to wonder,” Coulson nodded, pulling her closer. “But I don’t want you to let it consume you, okay? What matters is that you live your life how you want.”

“I want to go to art school,” She smiled up at him.

Coulson nodded, “Then you’re going to art school.” He kissed her head. “I love you, kid.”

She chuckled, “Love you, too.”


	12. Making Friends

Now that you knew about your true parentage, you had to have six month check-ups to gauge your abilities and how they were affecting your growth. You didn’t mind doing it, you knew the tests were necessary, and a few were actually kind of fun. Like the strength test. You loved seeing the shocked look on the SHIELD scientists’ faces when you benched more than they thought you were able to lift.

However, you did _not_ appreciate the shot that the doctor said you needed. You weren’t a fan of needles, and you were eager to get the hell out of the room they had stuck you in. So, as soon as the nurse left to retrieve the needle and whatever was being injected into you, you quietly made your way out of the room.

You knew you should have just sucked it up and stayed in the room to get the shot, but you didn’t exactly feel like it today. So, you quietly made your way down the hall, keeping your weight on the balls of your feet as you slipped through the halls. Your Aunt Melinda had taught you how to sneak around silently when you were younger, and you were glad she had taught you as you sneaked through the halls of the SHIELD medical facility. 

After a moment of wandering, you heard a nurse announcing you had wandered off again. It would seem that SHIELD medical staff were used to you just wandering off. Apparently, they were assuming you wouldn’t do it anymore now that you were eighteen, but habits were hard to break once you got them.

You heard footsteps ahead, and you cursed under your breath and slipped into the nearest room. You shut the door, hearing the footsteps passing by.

You let out a sigh of relief, leaning against the door. The shot was now put off for the time being, and you were incredibly grateful-

Your eyes rounded as you turned. There was someone else in the room, and she was lying on a bed with straps holding her down. She had a cast on her left leg, it was stark white and that seemed to unsettle you. It was so _plain_ and you were itching to paint it. You looked away from the boring looking cast to see the woman was staring intently at you with blue eyes. Her red hair was messy, giving her a slightly feral look.

“Um…hi.” You waved awkwardly. You weren’t exactly good with people, and it was definitely showing at the moment. “Sorry,” You began rambling. “Um—I- I’m really sorry, but I kind of need to hide out here because they want to give me a shot and I do _not_ want to get a shot because they suck and- Geez, I’m rambling. Sorry.”

She just stared at you, and you swallowed nervously.

“I’m (Y/N), by the way.” You told her. “What’s your name?” She didn’t reply as she continued to stare you down. “Right…you don’t have to tell me.” Your eyes flickered back to her cast. “Y’know, I could paint that for you.”

Her eyebrow twitched.

“Whatever you want on it, I can do.” You walked closer. She watched as you got closer. You noticed a red square taped onto the floor, and you frowned down at it. “Hey, what’s this square for?”

No reply.

You sighed, putting your hands on your hips. “I’m gonna need some kind of feedback. We’re gonna be stuck in here until they find me, so it’d be nice to not be the only one talking.”

She snorted, laying her head back on her pillow as she stared up at the ceiling. You sat in the chair by the red square, crossing your feet under you. The silence in the room was making you nervous, and you felt the need to say something, but you felt awkward being the only person holding up a conversation. Especially when you weren’t the best at holding conversations-

“Natalia,”

“Sorry?” You frowned at her.

“My name is Natalia Romanova.” She lifted her head to look at you. “And you shouldn’t be in here.”

“It’s either here, or a shot.” You pointed out.

Natalia snorted in amusement. “You’re afraid to get a shot?”

“It’s an irrational fear, I know.” You sighed, slightly embarrassed. “Please don’t judge me.”

“Not much room to judge considering I’m strapped down to a bed.” She muttered.

“Why _are_ you strapped down?”

“Because I’m dangerous.” She replied matter-of-factly. “I’m an assassin. The Black Widow.”

"That is _such_ a badass name.” You blinked.

Natalia snorted, and it sounded almost like a laugh. She looked at you, and you could see a glimmer of amusement in her blue eyes.

“Most people would run away from someone like me.” She stated, her eyes narrowing at you as if she were inspecting you. “Why don’t you?”

“We’ve established I’m more afraid of shots.” You smirked, and she gave you the ghost of a smirk back. “I was serious, by the way—about painting your cast.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Yeah, but seeing a blank canvas like that is bugging me, Natalia.” You replied. “Maybe something with flowers? I’m really tired of this dreary winter weather, and I could totally paint something very spring-ish on your cast.”

“They won’t let you near me.”

“I’m not afraid of SHIELD,” You snorted, getting to your feet. You stepped past the red tape and climbed onto the bed. You grabbed a pencil out of your pocket that you always kept on you. You maneuvered carefully around the straps, then pulled Natalia’s cast into your lap. “I sort of know the director.”

“No shit?” Natalia blinked as she watched you trace out designs onto her cast. “How?”

“He’s my uncle,” You replied with a smirk. “So, any colors you don’t want on the cast?”

“Do what you want,” She shrugged.

The door swung open, and you turned your head to see your father with a random agent with a stark white cast on his wrist.

“(Y/N), what the _hell_ are you doing?” Coulson hissed as he stormed into the room. He stopped at the red square taped on the floor.

“Trying to figure out how I’m going to paint Nat’s cast.” You replied calmly, going back to sketching.

“I need you to get off of that bed, and step away. _Now._ ” Coulson ordered.

You frowned at him, “Dad, she hasn’t hurt me.”

“Yet.” He growled.

You looked to Natalia, “Are you going to hurt me?”

“Considering you’re the first person to be nice to me in here, no.” Natalia shrugged.

You turned back to Coulson. “See? She’s not going to hurt me. Besides, I doubt she could, anyway.”

Natalia scoffed, “Rude.”

“Sorry,” You shrugged.

“Sir,” The agent with Coulson spoke in a low tone you could still clearly hear. “The Black Widow hasn’t said a _word_ since I brought her here. Looks like your kid can get her to talk.”

“I’m not playing snitch.” You growled, looking up from the cast, pointing your pencil at the agent. “If you want to ask Natalia something, you ask her.”

“Wow, that really is your kid.” The agent muttered, looking at the designs you had drawn on the cast. “Oh, hey! Can you do mine, too?”

You grinned, “Sure, what do you want?”

“Arrows-“

“She’s not painting casts!” Coulson snapped. “Especially for one of the world’s top assassins!”

“Dad,” You rolled your eyes, annoyed. “You keep saying I need to make friends-“

“Not with SHIELD agents and assassins!” Coulson threw his hands into the air. However, you could tell he knew it was already too late to do anything by the way he looked slightly defeated and let out a very defeated sigh. “You’re killing me, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Natasha is three years older than the reader, and Clint is four years older than the reader. I'm also leaning more towards the comic book version of Hawkeye because I just love Hawkeye in the comics more than I do the movie Hawkeye. 
> 
> I'm almost done with part one of the "Another Stolen Relic" series! Which means reader will be meeting Thor soon, which leads to finding out who her biological parents are! 
> 
> Thanks for reading this, guys! 
> 
> \--
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


	13. Shopping with an assassin

You knew you shouldn’t be nervous. It wasn’t like you were asking your father for his permission to leave the country. You just wanted to go dress shopping. However…the person you wanted to go shopping with wasn’t exactly someone your father was a fan of.

“Why do you look so guilty?”

You startled, your pencil fumbling out of your hand and hitting the floor of the living room. Your sketch of the large tree in the front yard now had a dark line across it. You ignored the ruined sketch to look up at your father who was eyeing you skeptically.

“What?”

“You look guilty, kid.” Coulson replied as he crossed his arms. “It’s the same look you got when you broke the coffee table while you were playing Captain America as a kid. Spill.”

“Um…I got asked to prom.”

You watched as Coulson’s stern look turned into a protective, yet startled, look. He sat on the coffee table, hands on his knees as he looked at you.

“What’s his name?”

“I’m not going with a guy,” You replied. That seemed to calm him down, but he now looked curious. “I’m going with a girl. You remember that girl I punched Alex Reynolds over?” Coulson nodded. “Well-“ You continued with a sigh. “Her name is Nancy, and she really wants to go to prom, but she doesn’t want to get picked on. She asked me to go with her because all the guys are afraid of me.”

“Oh,” Coulson blinked. “That’s fine, (Y/N). Even if you went to prom with a guy, I still would have let you go. Don’t look so nervous when you have to ask me something.”

“That’s not what I’m nervous about.” You admitted, chewing on your bottom lip. “I want to go dress shopping…”

“I don’t mind dress shopping.” Coulson smirked. “In fact, I have _excellent_ taste-“

“Dad, I don’t want _you_ to take me dress shopping.” You cut him off. “I want to go with a girl…” You trailed off, waiting for him to piece it together.

You knew the moment when he figured it out because he let out a low groan and buried his face in his hands.

“You want to go prom dress shopping with the _Black Widow_?” He finally looked at you, a tired, helpless look in his eyes.

“She’s my friend, dad.” You defended. “And prom dress shopping is something most girls do with their best friends. Nat’s my best friend.”

“Y’know, I always wanted you to make friends.” Coulson grumbled, scrubbing a hand across his face. “I guess I should have been more specific on what kind of friends you made.” He fixed you with a pleading look. “(Y/N), I’m _really_ not comfortable with you going dress shopping with one of the world’s top assassins.”

“Think of it this way, dad,” You rested your hand on his as it gripped his knee. “No one’s gonna touch me with Nat around.”

He sighed, “ _Fine,_ but I want you to call me every fifteen minutes.”

“ _Dad._ ”

“Fine,” He huffed. “Every thirty minutes. I want to make sure you’re alright. And use your code word to tell me you’re fine. That’s the only way you’re going.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re over protective?”

“Anyone ever tell you I don’t give a damn?” Coulson quipped with a smirk.

* * *

“What about this one?”

You peered around the rack of dresses, inspecting the dress Natalia—No, _Natasha­—_ had picked up. It was incredibly glittery, and you scowled at the horrific disco-ball style dress. Natasha snorted in amusement, putting the dress back on the rack.

“C’mon, kid, you gotta pick out something.” She sighed, sifting through the dresses on the rack.

“I don’t even want to _go_ to prom, Nat.” You muttered as you scowled at a horrifically pink number. “None of the kids at school have liked me since I broke Lucas Jacobs' wrist in the third grade. The only reason I’m going is because Nancy Mardon needed a date and I’m the only girl who said yes.”

“Do you even like girls?” Natasha asked as she leaned on the rack you were looking at dresses on.

“No,” You shrugged. “And Nancy knows that, but she wants to go to prom and doesn’t want to get harassed-“

Natasha laughed, “You’re playing bodyguard?”

You blinked, “Huh, I guess I am.”

“If I had known this sooner, I could have found you a dress faster.” Natasha rolled her eyes, poking you in the side before heading to a rack of dresses. “You’re going to need something you can move around in and hide weapons-“

“I can’t take weapons to prom, Nat.” You snorted, amused.

You followed Natasha around the store, watching as she found a few dresses she deemed acceptable to do security work in.

You still couldn’t believe your father let you leave the house with one of the world’s top assassins. A top assassin who had quickly become your best friend ever since you had accidentally wandered into her hospital room at the SHEILD medical facility. You never really _saw_ Natasha as an assassin, you saw her as your weird friend who had a love of knives and could braid hair like a pro.

Now the Black Widow was helping you pick out a dress for a prom you didn’t really want to go to. The other kids usually ignored you most of the time when they weren’t picking on you for being weird. However, it was rare for them to pick on you nowadays due to you almost breaking a linebacker’s jaw for bullying Nancy Mardon, even if it had been a year since that had even happened.

“Alright, go try these on.” Natasha announced, shoving four dresses into your arms. “I’ll be right outside the dressing room if you need help.”

You went into the dressing room, closing the door and began to try on the dresses.

The first one had a low neckline you knew your father wouldn’t approve of, so you didn’t even try it on. The next one was a gaudy blue one that you decided wasn’t really your thing, so you quickly took it off to avoid looking at your reflection in the monstrosity. The third one was nice, but you weren’t exactly a fan of the shade of purple.

The last one had the others beat by a mile. It was dark green with a gold beaded halter top that you couldn’t help but love. You fastened the strap for the neck, then stepped out of the dressing room. You looked to your friend, a faint flicker of nervousness running through you. You weren’t one for dresses, and you were worried you might look ridiculous. However, Natasha’s face lit up as she saw you, a faint smirk on her face.

“That dress is perfect.” She stated, leading you over to the mirrors so you could get a better look at yourself.

Despite the fact that you felt ridiculous in a dress, this one was gorgeous and you found that you actually looked pretty in it.

“You look amazing,” Natasha told you, sweeping your hair up off your neck and tying it into a side bun. “You’re going to look even better once everything else is done.” She squeezed your shoulder in encouragement, and you managed a small smile. “By the way, how much is your dad freaking out about you going to prom?”

“He’s just glad some guy didn’t ask me.” You snorted in amusement. “When I eventually bring a guy home, I’m gonna have to be super careful. Dad will more than likely shoot him." 


	14. A night you'll always remember

You considered yourself a tough person. Really, you did. You could heal incredibly fast, you could lift the front half of your father’s prized car so he could change a tire.

However, Natasha was pulling at your hair to get it positioned just right before she _jabbed_ bobby pins into your scalp.

“Ow!” You complained as the bobby pin scraped against your scalp.

“Don’t be such a baby.” Natasha rolled her eyes, then went back to work. “I’m almost done.”

“I’m not being a baby,” You grumbled defensively as you crossed your arms. “You’re the one jamming bobby pins into my head like little knives, Nat.”

“Bad habit,” She smirked at you through the mirror.

You watched her work via the mirror you were seated in front of. You could see a determined look in her eye as she sprayed more hairspray into your hair. To be honest, you hadn’t expected Nat to be so good with hair. She was styling your hair into an elegant up-do, something you could never do yourself.

You had been raised by a single-father who’s hairstyling talents included simple braids, pig-tails, and pony-tails. You yourself had never really been good with your own hair, opting to just throw it into a bun whenever you were painting to get it out of your face.

It was nice to have someone in your life who could make you look more put together than you actually were.

“Alright, I’m done.” Nat announced after giving you one final spray of hairspray. “What do you think?”

“It’s amazing,” You grinned at your reflection. You almost didn’t recognize yourself with your hair done so amazingly well. Nat had even done your makeup, a simple look of mascara and a lip-gloss that went well with your skin tone. “You should do this professionally.”

Nat shrugged, “It’s not as fun.” She pulled you to your feet. “Now, let’s get you dressed and hope Coulson doesn’t have a heart attack when he sees you.”

You laughed at that. “Ten bucks says he cries.”

Nat snorted, “I’m not betting against that. He’s _definitely_ going to cry.”

You changed out of your pajamas, then quickly stepped into the dress. You fastened the strap for the halter top, then sat on your bed to slip on your heels that Nat had let you borrow. They were gold, with a killer heel that you hoped hadn’t actually killed anyone. Once you were satisfied that the shoes were secure on your feet, you stood up. You wobbled slightly at the new height, and Nat steadied you before you could fall.

“Easy, kid.” She murmured, an amused smirk on her face. “Don’t hurt yourself. Maybe we should try different shoes?”

“No way!” You waved her off, and she took a step back. “These shoes are perfect, and I’m never taking them off.” You managed a few wobbly steps before you figured out how to walk in the heels. “See? All good.”

“Try not to fall down the stairs on your big entrance, alright?” Nat chuckled, and you noticed a sadness to her eyes.

“Hey, you gonna cry on me?” You teased lightly.

“Maybe,” She smirked tightly. “It’s just…nice that I can do normal things. Kinda wish I had a prom to go to back when I was your age.”

“You sound like you’re decades older than me, Nat.” You chuckled. “You’re only three years older than me, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah,” She sighed. “Try not to go blind from the pictures, alright?”

She left to go downstairs to wait with the others for your big reveal. You found it silly that you were doing so much for a stupid dance, but you could tell that it was a big deal for your new best friend to get you all fixed up for prom. You headed for the door, leaving your room after grabbing your gold clutch off the dresser.

You paused at the top of the stairs, seeing that your father was currently speaking with your Aunt Melinda. She spotted you at the top of the stairs, smiling up at you. Coulson turned, his eyebrows raising at the sight of you descending down the staircase. Your date was standing next to him. Nancy had opted out of wearing a dress, and was wearing a tux with a green bowtie to match the color of your dress. She grinned at you, and you felt less ridiculous in your get up.

You made it to the bottom of the stairs, thankful no one had used flash on their camera to blind you and cause you to lose your footing.

“You look…” Coulson trailed off, shaking his head. You could see tears glittering in his eyes that were causing you to tear up as well. “You look amazing, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, dad.” You beamed, giving him a hug. He didn’t seem to want to let go, but eventually did after a moment. You turned to Nancy.

“He’s right, you look amazing!” Nancy laughed. “And hey, thanks again for going to prom with me.”

“Of course,” You nodded. “We outcasts have to stick together, remember?” You repeated the phrase you had told her the day you had punched Alex in the mouth for bullying her.

“Dang straight.” She hi-fived you.

“Alright, let’s get some pictures so you two aren’t late.” Melinda announced. “This is going to be a night you two are always going to remember.”

* * *

Your ears were ringing violently. You managed to open your eyes, noticing how everything was a little blurry around the edges. You sat up slowly, wincing at the aching pain in your joints that you knew would go away in an hour or so.

You tried to recall what happened. You were heading to the punch line to get a drink when everything had just… _exploded._

The scene around you was pure chaos. There was debris everywhere, the Under the Sea theme was in shambles—crepe paper was burned to a crisp and decorating the debris like some demented version of a birthday party.

You heard muffled shouting, the ringing in your head making it hard to understand what was going on. You winced in pain as you pushed some fallen debris off your legs, not caring if anyone saw you moving something so heavy. You didn’t want to be pinned under what appeared to be a fallen section of the gym ceiling anymore. You winced as the debris scraped your legs, noticing the skirt of your dress was in singed tatters.

Slowly, you got to your feet, getting a better look at your surroundings. There were police officers, firemen—all of them running around and digging through the debris. You saw your classmates on stretchers, a few of them were sitting to the side with tear stained faces and covered in bright orange blankets.

"(Y/N)!”

You turned, seeing your father racing to you, panic written all over his face. He grabbed your and pulled you into a tight hug that made you gasp in pain. He jumped back, eyes wide with fear.

“Are you hurt?”

“I think I’m just sore,” You admitted. “I- Dad, what happened?”

“What do you remember?” He murmured worriedly. He led you over to one of the chairs that hadn’t been destroyed in what you assumed to be an explosion. He sat you down, kneeling in front of you as he held your soot covered hands.

You frowned as you forced yourself to remember. “I-I was going to get something to drink, and I…I remember someone shouting.” The memories surged back in violent flashes that had your heart racing. “It was a group of guys, about four of them. One was carrying a bomb, dad.” You looked at your father in panic as another memory hit you. “The leader pointed at me, told the others that I was the one they wanted. Nancy jumped on him to keep him from attacking me, and he dropped the bomb….” You paled, looking around at the survivors. “Dad, where’s Nancy?”

“She…” Coulson sighed. “Sweetheart, she was closest to the blast.”

“No,” You gasped, tears springing from your eyes. You could feel them creating marks in the soot on your face. “No, _no._ Dad, they were here for me—“ A sob tore through you, and you doubled over as your buried your face in your hands. You felt your father rubbing your back, but not saying anything. It would seem he knew nothing he said was going to make you feel better.

“They were here for _me_ , and Nancy died!” You sobbed, looking at Coulson. “This is _my_ fault!”

“Yes it is!” You shouted, almost hysteric at this point. “Dad, if I weren’t here, they wouldn’t have been here! I-I should have been able to protect everyone!”

“(Y/N), you’re just a kid,” Coulson’s voice was quiet. He sounded pained at your words. “This isn’t your responsibility-“

 “I have all of these abilities, I should have been able to save—“ You broke off in another sob, your lip quivering as you cried. “This is _my fault_ , dad.”

Coulson sighed, taking your hands in his and squeezing gently. “Sweetheart, it’s not your job to save everyone-“

“It should be.” You snapped, anger coursing through you. “What use are all of these abilities—the strength, the healing—what use are they if I don’t use them to protect people?”

An idea struck you as violently as a bolt of lightning.

“(Y/N)-“

“I’m joining SHIELD when I graduate.”

“ _What_?”

“I want to be better trained, I want to protect people-“

“(Y/N),” Coulson cut you off, looking exhausted and terrified all at once. “You’re in shock, sweetheart. Let’s get you home, alright?”

“I’m not going to change my mind, dad.” You stated. “I’m joining SHIELD.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now comes part 2! 
> 
> \--
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated!!


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